


met a girl, cute as can be

by andfinallywearehome



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff, Grease References, Grease!Au, but we love it, disney-level cheese, strategic quotes from grease songs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 21:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13373409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andfinallywearehome/pseuds/andfinallywearehome
Summary: It's the summer before Maya Hart's freshman year, and she's bored.[or: maya is the one riley needs (oh yes indeed), and the author makes use of many a 'grease' reference.]





	met a girl, cute as can be

**Author's Note:**

> let's play 'find all the references to grease songs and watch me destroy almost everything about canon', lmao. this didn't start out as a grease!au - far from it - but it just kind of...happened? 
> 
> title comes from a mash-up of two lines from grease's 'Summer Nights', and I own nothing recognisable.

It’s the summer before Maya Hart’s freshman year, and she’s bored.  
  
After two years of a long distance romance that Maya has not appreciated the front row seat to, her mom has finally taken her daughter on an extended summer vacation, staying in the apartment of her boyfriend, Shawn. Katy hopes that this visit will help nurture Shawn’s relationship with her daughter, help him touch Maya’s heart like he did hers, but Maya is not so sure; Shawn’s great, and appears to genuinely adores her mother which automatically gives him a few points, but there’s still a sense of awkwardness there whenever Maya is left alone with him. He’s not her father, just as she is not his daughter, and no amount of kidding around, assurances that she knows that she can come to either of them whenever she needs anything, and _pass the salt, please, Shawn_ will rectify that little problem.  
  
She skulks off one afternoon, armed with her trusty sketchbook in her backpack. She hasn’t ventured out much since arriving, but today is a day for adventure, and she’s going to go out and grab this adventure for everything it’s worth. Or, at least, that’s what she tells herself; she’s barely made it out of her window, out of the vicinity of the building in general, when she stops, distracted from her mission by the sound of singing. It isn’t hard to track it - her keen hearing might be the one good thing Kermit left with her - and she soon finds the source, peering through the bay window of one of the higher apartments at the girl perched there, her long brown hair catching the light, turning her golden.   
  
She’s beautiful.  
  
She only looks up when Maya clears her throat.  
  
“S’up.”  
  
She simply blinks in confusion, looking Maya up and down for a moment. Then: “Are you a stranger?”  
  
“Yup.”  
  
The girl sucks in a breath, perhaps intending to scream; Maya doesn’t give her the change, vaulting through the window to clamp a hand down over her mouth. The last thing she needs right now is to be caught sneaking into some stranger’s house; the excuse _I heard a really cute girl singing and had to investigate_ probably isn’t gonna fly with her mom and Shawn.  
  
“Please don’t do that. I prefer the singing.” She drops her hand slowly, hesitantly, but the girl doesn’t try to scream again. Instead, she merely cocks her head to the side, as if in deep thought about something truly puzzling.  
  
“Does this mean that we're going to be friends?”  
  
“Whatever you want,” Maya replies, because, really, with an introduction like this, how could they not be? “What’s your name?”  
  
The girl smiles then, warm and bright and beautiful. “I’m Riley Matthews.”  
  
Maya finds herself beaming in response. “I’m Maya Penelope Hart.”

+

 

Greenwich Village suddenly becomes a whole lot more interesting.  
  
From what Maya can see, Riley Matthews makes it her personal mission to take her newly found friend everywhere she can think of: bowling, the arcade, simply riding the subway wherever they can think of...Riley is adamant that they do it all, and every second of it they shall do together. Because that’s what friends do.  
  
She insists on exploring Central Park as well, and they spend the afternoon following the pathway, Riley’s arm looped firmly and tightly around Maya’s, proclaiming them as together for all the world to see. They laugh at everything they can, meaningless, trivial things that fill Maya’s chest with warmth, and at one moment she’s convinced that Riley is going to lean forward and kiss her, touch her silent heart the way Shawn seems to have her mother's, but the second is over before it ever really begins. Riley is dragging her further up the path, her excitement sparked by a stall selling fresh lemonade, and Maya follows, caught up in it too.

 

+

 

“I bought you a present,” Maya says to announce her arrival on her last night in New York, poking her head through the window.  
  
Riley looks confused, placing her book to one side. “Why?”  
  
“Because that’s what best friends do.” Maya takes her hands from behind her back, revealing the flower crown she’d picked up at one of the New York tourist hotspots. it’s beautiful, she thinks, just like Riley.  
  
“Suits you, honey,” she says, as her newly found best friend takes the gift from her and places it gently on her head, like she’s handling something precious.   
  
“I love it,” Riley says, a smile on her lips, before she suddenly turns sombre. “Is it -?”  
  
“Tomorrow,” Maya finishes for her, not wanting to hear those words from Riley, almost as if it will taint the memory that she’s going to carry back with her to Pennsylvania. “We leaving in the morning.”  
  
“Well, we’ll see each other again, right?” Riley says, and her voice is hopeful. “Right, Peaches?”  
  
“Sure, Riles. Whatever you want.”  
  
She’s sure that Riley will take something from this, turn it into a positive line or motivational speech about the power of true friendship - friendship like theirs - that she can carry back with her on the flight, but she doesn't. All she says is “ _Maya -_ ”, and then nothing else, like there are things she can’t quite formulate into words. But that’s okay. Maya has things she can’t put into words too. She settles for touching Riley’s cheek with her fingertips, soft and warm, before she turns and slides gracefully out of the window one last time, trying to ignore the feeling that she’s left her heart behind with that stupid flower crown.

 

+

 

The last three weeks of her summer vacation are spent in Pennsylvania, and despite how nice it is to be back amongst her own things, Maya can’t enjoy it. She may have her old friends back, and a future at high school to think about, but she misses Riley, and she can tell her mom misses Shawn. She spends hours with him on the phone, talking in a hushed whisper that Maya can’t overhear from her room. They’re the lucky ones, Maya thinks. She doesn’t have any contact information for Riley, except part of an address in New York. It almost feels like they never met at all.  
  
“Maya,” Katy says one evening during dinner, slowly, cautious. “How would you feel about moving in with Shawn?”  
  
“Is this you asking me for my opinion, Mom?” Maya looks up from her food, twirls a strand of spaghetti around her fork. They’ve been here before, after all, sat at this very table, sharing the same exact words. “Or is this you telling me that it’s happening?”  
  
“I want to give you time to get used to the idea,” she says, and then rests a hand on top of Maya’s. “Please. Think about it before you make a decision.”  
  
Maya says she will, but she knows she doesn’t have to think about it. She doesn’t want to keep her mom from happiness, even if it means saying goodbye to the life they’ve managed to build with just the two of them, and Shawn seems to have passed all the boyfriend tests he could have been given. He’s genuine, and Maya can’t ask for more than that.   
  
They spend the next few weeks organising everything, packing up their lives to be carted back to Greenwich Village, for good this time. Carla and Renee drop by on their way to school, the day before she leaves, but there’s no real sadness in the goodbye, and that’s fine with Maya, because there was never any real emotion there to begin with; the three of them were just passing time, after all, and they all know it.  
  
The drive to Greenwich Village is three hours long, but Maya spends the entire journey in thought. She’s now going to be in the same apartment building as Riley, permanently this time, but it isn’t summer anymore. That careless freedom, the one that solves all their problems, is gone, and whilst Maya might not have put it behind her, Riley might have. They aren’t just going to be a couple of friends that sneak off together to run wild around New York, they’re going to be _neighbours_.  
  
What if Riley doesn’t even want to see her anymore?  
  
No. That’s not the way to think. Riley doesn’t seem like the type that would shut her out, especially after the last time they had seen each other. There has to be something here, Maya thinks. There just has to be.  
  
She barely looks at her suitcase as she drags it into the room assigned to her in Shawn’s place, heading straight for her usual exit - the window - before she can even think about anything else, following the familiar path to Riley’s place. She’s in front of the bay window in less than three minutes, but it’s different now. The window is closed - it’s never been closed before - and the curtains are drawn, shutting her out from the room that seemed so open and welcoming in her memories.  
  
She knocks, once, twice, three time, but there is no response. She gives up in the end, and slips back into her new room in Shawn’s downstairs apartment, a chill going through her that has nothing to do with the autumn breeze.

 

+

 

It’s a relatively warm day in late September - her first day at Abigail Adams high school - and Maya’s ready to do some damage.  
  
If she can find her way around first.  
  
Because she’s a few weeks late to the start of freshman year, no one else is skulking around trying to find their classrooms anymore, so it’s not like she can just blend in with the crowd and pretend to be disaffected from everything. No, this time, with her new schedule clutched in hand, she has that obvious new student vibe going on, the one that everyone else lost two weeks ago.  
  
She huffs an almost inaudible sigh of frustration as she rounds the same corner for the third time. This is becoming a growing pain, this aimless wandering.   
  
She’s considering just ditching this entire thing - or, at the very least, her classes for most of the day so that she can get a good idea of this place - when:  
  
“You lost, girl?” A guy is leaning up against his locker, probably having watched her blindly walking in circles whilst everyone else is in homeroom.   
  
“No,” she bites back, but the words fail to convince the guy in front of her. He simply shrugs, and then moves closer without her permission, sneaking a look at the schedule in her hand.  
  
“Same class as me. I’ll walk you.” He gives her a relatively warm smile. “Zay, by the way.”  
  
Maya raises an eyebrow, suspicious for a moment, and then relaxes somewhat, stopping the fight. “Maya.”

 

+

 

It turns out that Zay is in most of her classes at Abigail Adams. Back home, in Pennsylvania, Maya might have found someone following her all morning an irritation, but she has to admit that it’s handy having someone to lead her around and preventing her from stumbling into the wrong class. She’s only just got here, after all; she doesn’t want that kind of reputation to stick with her. The two of them even end up sharing a small table in the cafeteria, Maya picking at her sandwich whilst Zay keeps up enough conversation for the both of them. It actually doesn’t annoy her as much as she thought it would; she could get used to hanging around with this kid.  
  
“So, what’cha do all summer?” He asks, after momentarily stopping to draw breath.  
  
Maya raises an eyebrow. “What are you, my mom?”  
  
Zay only laughs. Apparently, her biting words fall soft on him. “C’mon, Maya, tell.”  
  
It’s not worth arguing against, and so she shrugs. “Nothing much. Although I did - I did meet this one girl. She was sort of cool.” She tries to sound disaffected, but can’t quite manage it. It seems Riley has seeped into every part of her, slowly and surely.

"Tell me more."

“We just went bowling and stuff like that. Lemonade in Central Park, y’know, all the tourist places.”  
  
“She sounds special.”  
  
Maya snorts. “There ain’t no such thing.”  
  
“Oh, yeah? What’s her name?”  
  
“Riley.” She holds back the smile that threatens to cross her face at the mere mention of Riley’s name, because she doesn’t want to give Zay that satisfaction. “Riley Matthews.”  
  
Zay stops, mid-chew, looking at her with wide eyes. It’s as if he can’t quite comprehend what she’s just said.   
  
“What?” Maya can feel herself getting defensive. “What’s that face for?”  
  
“Nothing,” Zay says quickly, even though it’s clearly _something_. “Just - well, maybe if you believe in miracles, your princess will show up again someday.”  
  
“Like that will ever happen. Besides, it was just _summer_.” She shakes her head firmly. “Doesn’t mean a thing now.”  
  
“Don’t you wonder what she’s doing _now_?”  
  
Maya doesn’t let him have an answer to that.

 

+

 

“I still don’t get why you made me do this.”  
  
“It’s tradition,” Zay reminds her, as they cross the gym towards the bleachers. It’s a familiar rhythm they’ve fallen into, this easy kind of friendship, one that Maya never had with her friends in Pennsylvania. “Everyone in high school watches the warm-up game. We’re here to take no prisoners.”  
  
“Don’t need a football game to do that,” Maya says, but her comment is lost in the hum of conversation from the other students around. She raises her voice. “I thought you were more into the nature club.”  
  
“They can last without me for a while.”  
  
Maya shrugs, and turns back to the game in front of them. She’s never been one for this kind of thing, and she soon finds her mind wandering - back to Riley, of all things. Zay has a point: she _does_ wonder how she’s doing these days, and why the bay window seems to be closed for good now. Maybe Riley had been just like her - a visitor from out of town. Maybe she’s back in her own town, her own state, far away from here, thinking about where Maya might be.  
  
 _Eh_. She shakes her head. No point getting up hope, after all. Especially if they’re never going to see each other again.  
  
She turns to Zay, intending to strike up yet another conversation about how lame this whole thing is, but he seems distracted too. At first she thinks he’s just as bored by the whole ordeal as she herself is, but he keeps glancing off, something else catching his attention.  
  
“What?” Maya eventually asks, when the curiosity gets too much.  
  
“Nothing!” He looks almost guilty as he turns back.  
  
“Yeah. Sure.” She rolls her eyes, making it clear she doesn’t believe him. “Tell me, Earl.”  
  
“Earl?”  
  
“I’ve been speculating on potential middle names for you - but don’t start changing the subject. _Tell me_.”  
  
“Okay, okay -” After a moment, Zay stands, and beckons her to do the same. “C’mon.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I got a surprise for you, girl.”  
  
He takes her down the bleachers, down to the side of the court itself. Maya really hopes that this isn’t the moment when Zay tries to make her play sports; she might have to swiftly end their new friendship if that’s the case.  
  
“Sugar!” Zay calls to someone in the small group of three by the benches, and Maya follows his gaze, seeking out the person he’s addressing.  
  
“Riley!”  
  
“ _Peaches?_ ” And, suddenly, Riley Matthews is in front of her, her warm brown eyes filled with confusion, and Maya realises that, just three weeks later, her memory has not been doing this girl justice. “What are you doing here? I thought -”  
  
“Change of plan. It’s a long story.”  
  
“That’s -” Riley pauses, and then glances behind her. Her two friends are watching with unrestrained interest. Maya follows her gaze, taking in the two guys.  
  
“Aren’t you gonna introduce us, Riles?”  
  
“Right.” Riley barely offers the guys as much of a glance. “Everyone, this is Maya. Maya, this is Farkle, and -”  
  
“And?” Maya prompts.  
  
“This is Lucas.”  
  
 _Lucas_. Maya’s eyes are drawn to the blonde, stood protectively behind Riley, looking like he’s one moment away from stepping closer and putting an arm around her, as if to shield her from something. From Maya herself, perhaps. From this new person, this unknown entity, that dares come _near_ \-   
  
Oh. So _that’s_ how it is.  
  
She really shouldn’t have eaten that hot dog Zay bought her. She feels like she’s about to puke it back up the moment she opens her mouth. For all her tough talk, it seems she sure can be easily manipulated by a girl with a pretty face and those big brown eyes. She would never have thought Riley had it in her. Now that pretty face just looks sad, regretful.  
  
 _What happened to that girl that let me climb through her window?_  
  
“I should go,” she says, voice steady, because Maya Hart does not lose control in front of everyone - _fake_ , _phoney_ , _I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, Riley Matthews_ \- before she turns and leaves, holding her head as high as she possibly can. She can hear the footsteps of Zay following her, and the sound of hushed conversation from Farkle and Lucas.  
  
“Maya!”  
  
“I’m fine,” she says, and bites her lip to stop the tears, because she doesn't deserve tears, because Riley Matthews has been, what? Passing time? Leading her on? Making her the fool?  
  
No. Maya Hart is a fool for nobody, not even Riley Matthews.  
  
“No, you’re not,” Zay says. “I’m sorry - I shouldn't have done that. It’s my fault.”  
  
“No, it’s not. It’s hers. She’s - She’s gone. Forgotten.”  
  
Maya can tell she doesn’t mean it. She knows that Zay can tell it too.

 

+

 

She stays at Zay’s place that night, not wanting to go back to her empty room in Shawn’s apartment and wallow in her own self pity. She and Zay watch stupid comedies on Netflix, mocking them as they do, and she feels her mood start to lift, like she can forget about - _that girl_ \- and just carry on with her life as usual. She’s _Maya freaking Hart_ , after all. It doesn't matter that her heart tells her not to let go, to hold on to the end. It's just part of the reason why she listens to her head.  
  
It can’t last, though, because it never does; they’re coming to the end of their third movie, when Zay, on his way to get more popcorn, gives her an unusually sombre look.  
  
“I’m sorry about Riley.”  
  
“Don’t be,” Maya says firmly. “I’m not.”  
  
And she’s _not_.  
  
(Well, mostly.)

 

+

 

Of course, Zay can’t leave well alone. He drops by Shawn’s apartment that weekend - at ten in the morning, of all times - to pick her up and take her out for a coffee.  
  
“You need one after the week you’ve had, girl,” he says, lingering in Shawn’s living room as Maya grabs her jacket.  
  
“You could have just come through the window,” she says. “That’s what I do.”  
  
“I would never. It’s impolite.”  
  
Maya rolls her eyes, but she can feel the fondness underlying the gesture. “Right.”  
  
It’s not a far journey to the place that Zay is insisting on taking her to: Topanga’s coffee house, a small place just below Shawn’s apartment that Maya hadn’t know existed. It’s warm and homely; Maya can feel it in the atmosphere, as soon as she steps through the door and into the orange glow of the lights inside.  
  
Or, at least, she can until she glances to one side and spots Riley, and her certain blonde _friend_ , sitting in the corner by the counter as they study together, books piled high beside them. So much for her good day.  
  
“You wanna go?” Zay asks, having noticed the offending spectacle too.  
  
“No.” She’s not giving Riley and Ranger Roy the satisfaction of watching her leave. “C’mon, let’s go get a coffee.”  
  
She holds her head high as she walks past - because she’s _Maya Hart_ \- blatantly ignoring the couple less than three feet away. Zay follows behind her, nodding when Lucas catches his eye, and then looking almost guilty as he returns his attention to Maya. Whatever. Zay can do what he wants.  
  
“Ugh,” she says after a little while, once the barista has handed them their coffees and slices of cake - her favourite type, as well. Zay’s a genius to have chosen to bring her here; she could see herself spending a while in this place. “This song they’re sucks. I’ll be back in a second.”  
  
She slides out of her seat; across the room is a jukebox, and she fumbles with the change in her pocket as she studies the songs available, trying to make a decision. She’s only been stood there a moment or two when the hairs on the back of her neck prick, feeling the warmth of someone coming up behind her, and at first she thinks it’s Zay, wanting to request something as well, but then:  
  
“Hi, Maya.”  
  
She tenses. That is not the voice she needs right now.  
  
“Riley,” is all she lets herself say out loud.  
  
“How are you?”  
  
“Fine.” She doesn’t ask how Riley is. Clearly, she is fine, over in the corner with Hop Along, going about her day like there’s nothing wrong.  
  
Silence. Then: “I’m sorry about the other day at the game, Maya.”  
  
“Hm.”  
  
“I just think you got the wrong idea -”  
  
“What, that you didn’t tell me that you already had someone vying for your affections, and let me believe that I actually had a shot? Yeah. _Sure_ I had the wrong idea, Matthews.”  
  
“It’s not that simple.”  
  
“Well, then -” She finally looks at her, and clenches her fists as she does, to not let herself get swayed by those perfect, warm brown eyes “- I bet you’re glad that Huckleberry’s such a _simple_ person.”

 

+

 

Seeing Riley and Lucas in public is one thing, but having to watch them together at school is another. Maya endures both Monday and Tuesday of having to watch them from afar in the cafeteria - because, suddenly, they are _everywhere_ that she is - before she skips school on Wednesday, heading down the street to the subway, and out into the middle New York, towards to the corner stores, the grocery stores, the bakeries - anywhere that might give her some kind of employment.  
  
The answer, wherever she goes, is always the same. She’s only a freshman. She’s too young.  
  
But what they all fail to realise, Maya thinks, is that this is exactly the point. She’s a freshman, only fifteen, and she won’t graduate until she’s a senior. Four more years of having to avoid Riley Matthews, avoid Huckleberry, and everyone else in that awful place apart from Zay, when she can’t even make it through three days, sounds more like torture than anything else she can think of right now, and so she scowls her way around New York for three more days after that, until she drops back through her window to find Shawn sitting on the bed, patiently waiting for her.  
  
“I thought grown ups were supposed to go out the door,” he says.  
  
Maya shrugs. “More convenient this way. What’s up?”  
  
“I should be asking you that.” Shawn pats the space beside him, and she, albeit reluctantly, takes a seat. “Your mom told me you haven’t been at school for the past couple of days.”  
  
“Oh. That.”  
  
“Yeah. That. What’s on your mind?” He doesn’t seem mad, or even mildly annoyed, just understanding. This, Maya decides right there and then, is why she likes Shawn; he gets it.  
  
“I wanna drop out of school.”  
  
“At fifteen?”  
  
“Loads of people drop out and do just fine! I could get a job -” Maya tries to argue, but even she knows it’s futile. Shawn can see her feeble excuses.  
  
“Maya, you’re not ready to hold a job, not right now.”  
  
“Maybe.” She flashes him a brief half smile. “Who wants their hair done by a slob, anyway?”  
  
“The world is cruel,” Shawn agrees, and they share a smile - a real one this time. It’s a moment of kinship, a mutual understanding.   
  
“So,” she says, after the moment has passed, “are you gonna lecture me about how irresponsible I am?”  
  
“No. I’ll leave that one to your mom. But I will give you a piece of advice.”  
  
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”  
  
“Get your diploma and graduate. I get it - the future seems unclear now, and school seems like the last place you want to be, but it’s worth it in the end. You don’t want to be a high school drop-out hanging around the corner store; I see plenty of ‘em, and I don’t want that for you.”  
  
“I guess you got a point.”  
  
“Wipe off that angel face, Maya.” Shawn gently knocks her shoulder. “Don’t put my good advice to shame: go back to high school.”

 

+

 

She calls Zay that night, knowing that she’s kind of left him in the lurch by disappearing. He’s a good friend to her, really; he’s had her back since the first day.  
  
“Don’t you worry,” she tells him, after he’s had to stop to take a breath. “I’m not going anyway. Maya is back.”

 

+

 

“You going to that?”  
  
“Me? At a dance?” Maya flicks the brightly coloured flyer by her locker with disdain and a roll of her eyes. “I don’t think so.”  
  
Zay gives her a gentle poke on the shoulder. “Not even if Riley asked?”  
  
She sends him an unamused look. “Not even then.”  
  
Zay chuckles, digging around in his locker for a textbook before they part ways for sixth period, the one class they don’t have together. Maya’s headed towards her art class - it’s the one class she would actually say that she likes, maybe even _enjoys_. She almost smiles at that thought - _Maya Hart_ , enjoying a class -  
  
“Oof!” She’s suddenly knocked to the floor, having collided with another student. “Watch where the hell you’re -” The words die in her mouth when she sees Riley, sitting up, looking a bit bewildered as to what had just happened. Maya clears her throat. “You, uh, you okay?”  
  
Riley doesn’t say anything, simply stares at her like Maya has grown an extra head. Maybe she’s thinking of the last time they saw each other, and the words that had been exchanged then.   
  
Maya tries to make light of the situation, rolling her eyes. “Well, gee, Riles, the least you can do is talk to me after humiliating me like you did last time.”  
  
“ _Humiliating_ \- Maya, I said I’m sorry about -”  
  
“Ha. Got’cha talking.” It’s supposed to be joking, but it kind of falls flat when it becomes clear Riley doesn’t feel like laughing. “Where are you running off to, anyway?”  
  
“Library.” Ah. That would explain the collection of books Riley now has in her arms. “I have an assignment due tomorrow.”  
  
“Is that so?” Maya raises an eyebrow. She’s promised Shawn that she’ll take his advice, that she’ll take school seriously from now on, but - well, it _is_ only an art class. “Mind if I join you?”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“You _can_  tell me not to.”  
  
“No, no! I’d like that.”  
  
“Awesome.”  
  
Maya lets her lead the way. The library is empty when they arrive, but Riley still heads to the most secluded table she can find, and Maya lounges sideways in the seat opposite her, playing a game on her phone as Riley scribbles away at her assignment.   
  
It's not unfriendly, but it feels awkward, almost like they’re strangers again. Maya can’t let that continue.  
  
“So,” she says suddenly, unable to take the constant silence. “Is, uh, is Hee-Haw taking you to that dance?”  
  
Riley drums her fingers on the table, a nervous rhythm. “He asked. But I told him I’d have to think about it.”  
  
“Why? Isn't he supposed to be your boyfriend?”  
  
“Lucas isn't my boyfriend.”  
  
“But you want him to be, right?” Maya tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “You should just go with him.”  
  
“That depends.”  
  
“On what?”  
  
“Well -” Riley curls a strand of silky hair behind her ear. “You.”  
  
“Me?” Maya quirks an eyebrow. “Oh, Matthews, take me out to dinner first.”  
  
“Okay,” Riley answers, immediately.  
  
Maya chuckles, and then abruptly stops. “Wait - Are you being serious?”  
  
“I’m always serious, Peaches.”  
  
There’s no hint of a joke on her face. She’s simply watching her, waiting for an answer, and Maya sits up straight in her chair, turning to face her properly. This might actually be serious.  
  
“What about Huckleberry?”  
  
“What about him?”  
  
Well, she hadn’t been expecting that answer. It’s enough to make Maya raise her eyebrow again.  
  
“Alright, Riles. You’re on.”

 

+

 

They go on a lunch date at Topanga’s in the end.  
  
As it transpires, Riley’s parents are the owners of the coffee house, which means that she can wrangle her way into the best seats, the couches by the window. The waitress ruffles her hair affectionately as she brings them their food, before having to march back to the counter and drag away the man whom Maya assumes is Riley’s father, judging by the way he’s watching the two of them with hawk-like eyes. Riley doesn’t look like she’s completely comfortable with him being here either.  
  
“Bay window?” Maya asks, when they’ve finished their food and exhausted the conversations about school, classes, and Zay’s futile attempts to find a last-minute date to the dance. She wants to ask Riley about things, _feelings_ , but perhaps not in the coffee house where she wouldn’t be surprised if Mr Matthews is still trying to keep an eye on them in order to protect his daughter’s innocence (when, really, there are worse things Riley could do than go on a date with someone).  
  
Riley smiles, and it’s the realest smile of the afternoon. “Bay window.”  
  
They make their way out as quickly as possible, heading towards the upstairs apartment. Riley squeezes her hand as they leave, a silent gesture of thanks, and it makes Maya’s stomach do a weird jolt.   
  
Man, she’s so screwed when it comes to Riley Matthews.  
  
“I’ve missed this place,” she says, once they are sitting in their old spots in the bay window.  
  
“I’ve missed you being in this place,” Riley replies, looking around the room. “I left the window open after I saw you at the game that night. I hoped you might try to come through again, even if it was just to yell at me.”  
  
“I considered that.” Maya gives her a half smile, but Riley doesn’t return it. “Hey - what’s up? You’re not acting like your usual Riley-self.”  
  
“Just got some things on my mind."

"Oh? Like what? Maybe I can help."

"Peaches - do you remember the night of the game?"

"Kinda hard to forget, Riles," Maya says, but quickly quietens down at the serious look on her date's face. "What about it?"

"I was here for hours, thinking, all alone. I just sat and wondered why, what had gone wrong, what I should have done, everything I could've thought of." She pauses, and Maya wonders whether it's her cue to speak, but then Riley continues. "I kept thinking about the people I wanted in my world, both now and when high school is done - and I don't want us to live in two separate worlds, Maya. Not now, and not ever. What I'm trying to say is... I -”

  
She’s interrupted by the slight screeching sound of the bay window suddenly sliding open; a second later, a face appears through the gap, like Maya herself has done many times in the past.  
  
“ _Ladies -_ ”  
  
Maya pulls a face at the familiar kid. “Farkle?”  
  
“ _Farkle_.” Riley sends him an annoyed look.  
  
He looks confused. “Am I interrupting something?”  
  
“Is he, Riles?” Maya asks, and then turns simply so she can see the flustered look on Riley’s face (it’s her favourite Riley face; she could almost call it the eighth wonder of the world).  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
“Aw, c’mon. Whatever you’ve got to say to me, you can say in front of your buddy Farkle, right?”  
  
“Right,” Farkle agrees, before he looks expectantly towards Riley, waiting for answers.  
  
“Okay,” she says after a brief pause, turning to Maya again. “Maya Penelope Hart - _Peaches_ -”  
  
“Riles.”  
  
Riley’s toying with her fingers, lacing them together and pulling them apart, before: “Will you go to the dance with me?”

 

+

 

Maya’s never been to a school dance before. They’re not her thing. She’d rather set the dance floor on fire _literally_ than be caught anywhere near them. Then again, back in Pennsylvania, she didn’t have Riley Matthews to go to dances with, and that is something to be pitied, especially when she opens the door and sees the very same Riley Matthews standing on Shawn’s doorstep, waiting for _her_.  
  
The dance is in the school gym, and looks as terrible as Maya initially thought; Zay rushes to greet them as soon as they arrive, but is soon pulled away by Vanessa, his own date. How on earth he managed to find a date in such short notice is a miracle; Maya makes a mental note to ask him about it later. She has four years to get around to it, after all.  
  
“You wanna dance?” She asks Riley, who simply smiles and takes her hand in response, dragging her towards the crowd of dancing teenagers. Her fingers feel warm from where they’re wrapped around Maya’s, and it makes her think of another moment, months ago, set against the backdrop of Central Park where Maya had been so sure that Riley would kiss her.  
  
Maybe it’s a sign of things to come.


End file.
